


All I Want for Hanukkah is You

by The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Christmas/Hanukkah fic!!, Gift Exchange, M/M, This is for my secret santa, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence/pseuds/The_Defeaning_Sound_of_Silence
Summary: The Losers decide to do a sort-of Secret Santa-style gift exchange. It does not go as planned.





	All I Want for Hanukkah is You

 Of course Stanley realized that not everybody celebrated Hanukkah. It would have been bigoted of him not to. He just sometimes wished the school would stop being so... _segregational_ about everything.

 As he was walking from his eighth period class, getting ready to pack up and go home, he had a hard time not glaring at the **‘Merry Christmas!’** poster that was slapped directly sideways onto his locker door. It was like they were trying to patronize him.

 He clawed the poster off his locker and crumpled it up, tossing it in a nearby trashcan and ignoring some of the looks he got from fellow classmates. So what if they thought he was a grinch? They’d probably do the same thing if the roles were flipped.

 He subconsciously adjusted his Kippah as he spun the lock on his locker until he heard a satisfying click. As he opened it and began to shove books into his backpack, he heard loud, irregular footsteps and felt a presence next to him. He turned around and came face to face with Richie Tozier; more commonly known as the school’s problem child and Stanley’s best friend. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms, waiting for Richie to speak.

 “Stanley, I know it may be difficult as you are a very easily excited person, but please try not to kill me with your enthusiasm,” Richie remarked sarcastically. Stan rolled his eyes, giving Richie a light shove to the shoulder.

 “The holidays are stressful, you dick.” Richie donned a goofy smile as Eddie Kaspbrak ran up to join them.

 “Hey guys! Are we going to Stan’s house for those hashbrown things?” Eddie inquired enthusiastically, a toothy smile on his face. In contrast to Richie’s checked shorts and denim jacket over a dark red t-shirt, Eddie was wearing a pastel green sweater and jeans, as well as a red pastel beanie.

 Stan on the other hand wore a simple blue jacket and khakis.

 They passed the Bower’s gang silently, and though they shot them dirty looks, they’d agreed not to mess with them for the month of December, as sort of a gift for the holidays.

 “You mean latkes?” Stan grumbled, but sooner lightened up as Bill Denbrough joined their walk down the hallway.

 “Hey guys- s. What’re we talking about?” He smiled, his books held close to his chest. He was tall, but so was Stan, and Richie was growing, though it was mostly in his legs and arms, leaving his body an awkwardly proportioned mess of limbs. He used his height to his advantage, however, as Eddie was much shorter than all of them and had to stand on his tiptoes to be shoulder-to-shoulder with the Richie.

 “Stan’s weirdo Jew-y food,” Richie joked, sticking his tongue out at Stan as they pushed through the doors of the building and found Ben, Mike, and Bev standing on the stairs in front of the school.

 “You actually reminded me-”

 “By god, Doctor K., it’s the river nile! And three-- count them-- three Sphinxes!” Richie said, putting on a terrible fake British accent. Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, muttering a, “Beep beep, Richie.” before Bev’s eyes lit up.

 “Wait, Stan! I almost forgot! We got you a gift for Hanukkah.” She reached into the pockets of her red jacket as Bill, Mike, Ben, Eddie, and even Richie had their attention captured by the redhead.

 In her hands was a small black box, like something you’d hold jewelry in. She thrust it into his hands eagerly.

 “Open it! Open it!” She urged, bouncing on her toes. Bill loomed over his shoulder and Stan did his best to fight away any and all thoughts about turning around and kissing Bill against the brick wall of the school.

 He opened the box to reveal a necklace, which had seven little charms dangling from them. He examined each one closely.

 On the end, there was a red one, with a charm that resembled a sized-down polaroid photo.  _ Mike,  _ Stan thought. He had recently gotten a polaroid camera as an early Christmas gift, and he’d recently been following them around and taking snapshots of their group. Mike, who was both artistically inclined and curious. Who took pictures of the group and had no real reason for doing so.

 The next was an orange inhaler charm, and from the moment Stan looked at it one name had immediately come to mind.  _ Eddie.  _ He’d always been a shy boy, and a nervous one too. Any time his nerves got the better of him, he injected the medicine into his mouth and it calmed him every time. Eddie, his friend who was always nervous and yet always courageous.

 Next to that was a yellow key.  _ Beverly,  _ he thought. She always wore a necklace with a key hooked on it. The key itself was nothing special, just a spare house key, but the special part about it was that she rarely took it off. From the time he’d first met her to the present day, she’d been wearing that key around her neck.

 Beside that was a green pair of glasses. He didn’t even have to think to know who that charm was meant for.  _ Richie _ , who always wore his three-inch thick glasses that made his eyes look like bug-eyes and were thinly held together with a piece of medical tape. Richie, whose glasses were always getting thrown around and broken, had a glasses charm on his necklace. 

 And then there was a blue book.  _ Ben.  _ The short, pudgy, boy spent most of his time either in the library or hunched over a book-- sometimes both. Ben, who was always writing, be it poetry or short stories. Who had a brilliant mind as well as a brilliant-- and controlled, unlike Richie’s-- tongue.

 At the end, there was a dark purple paper boat.  _ Bill. _ Of course it was Bill. He loved to make things out of paper, he had a million imaginations and enough creativity to end a war. Like Ben, he sometimes wrote, but he always refused to share his writing. Bill, who was the gravity that kept their group together. Who always knew the best places to go, the best things to do. Who was an expert at helping Stan not feel imperfect or outcasted. Who was amazing at letting Stanley know how much he meant to Bill. Stuttering Bill Denbrough, leader of the Losers.

 In the center was his own charm, a white dove charm. He supposed it fit, as he did enjoy bird-watching in his spare time. His friends had gone all out on his gift. Sure, maybe it wasn’t the most expensive or elaborate present, but it meant so much to him he began to cry.

 “O- oh my god. I’m s- s- sorry, S- Stan! I thought you’d like it! Wuh- we can take it back if you-”

 Bill’s stutter always got worse when he was nervous. It occurred to him that Bill was probably the one who suggested the gift in the first place.

 “No! I… I love y- it.  _ I love it.”  _ Stan’s eyes were wide, hoping nobody caught on to his almost-mistake. He scanned their faces, and it seemed that Mike was the only perceptive one of the group, as he was looking at Stan with a slight raised eyebrow.

 He had Bev hook it onto his neck, and he wore it proudly above his jacket. He linked arms with Bill as they started towards the Uris household.

 It seemed to go as every walk did. Richie making bad jokes, picking Eddie up at random times, Eddie rolling his eyes, Bev beginning to tease Ben, Mike, and Richie out of boredom, and Bill whispering his favorite tongue-twister under his breath.

 But there was something different, and it was only slightly noticeable, making Stan question whether he was paranoid or simply tired. Maybe a mixture of both. Mike kept shooting him weird looks, and he was quieter than normal, too. Mike was perceptive, no doubt about that, but he left Stan wondering just how much he knew.

 When they got to his house and greeted his mother, everything previous seemed to have been forgotten.

 It was a year later that Stan felt he was completely and utterly helpless. About two months after they defeated It, sent It back into the well, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 He stopped sleeping, kept awake by vivid and terrible nightmares, and even at the Losers weekly sleepovers, he stayed up all night. It seemed Eddie was having the same problem as he was, though maybe he was dealing with it better.

 It was no secret that Richie spent most of his nights at Eddie’s house, sometimes he even broke into Stan’s room to stay for the night. But something changed between the two of them, and it made Stan extremely jealous.

 They’d gotten closer. Practically attached at the hips, sometimes during their sleepovers they’d wake up in each other’s arms and brush it off as though it was nothing. They didn’t  _ need  _ to explain themselves because there was nothing to explain.

 They still had contact with Bev, despite the fact that she moved to Portland. Stan would frequently call her on their phone, and he knew the others called just as much judging by how often Bev would pick up the phone and try to guess who it was on the other end.

 Everytime he talked with her, he played with her charm on his necklace. Her little yellow key, that seemed to hold her energy in it despite the fact that she was miles away.

 It was one particular phone call, and it stuck with him for as long as he could remember.

 “People are much more accepting here, Stanny. You should see the amount of men who walk down the street shamelessly kissing another man on the cheek. It’s like everyone here has more important things to worry about than homosexuals,” She’d explained to him, one day when he asked what Portland was like for her, and how her aunt got away with dating another woman.

 “Really?” Stan asked, and he hoped he didn’t sound too desperate. Bev hesitated on the other end.

 “Yeah. They don’t condemn nearly as much as they would in Derry. Nobody really cares whether you’re black or white, gay or straight. It’s a free city.” Stan made a mental note to ask his family about moving to Portland. He thought about he and Bill being together, without fear. Just happiness, being able to admire Bill and let him know he was being loved and admired. He found his fingers switching from the key to the purple boat. He turned the charm over in his fingers.

 “That sounds nice, Bev. I wonder if Bill would want to move there.” It was a stray thought, and he hadn’t quite realized he’d voiced it until he heard Bev giggle.

 “You both should. Then you could finally get together.” Stan’s breath hitched in his throat, and all he could seem to produce were little grunts of slight offense.

 “M- me? And Bill? I- I don’t-- where did you-- why would you ever th-- th- that is the most absurd-”

 “Calm down, Stanny. I won’t tell. He likes you too, you know. He calls me all the time to tell me about how nice your outfit was, or how happy you got when you saw that sparrow the other day. You should tell him how you feel.”

 Stan thought about that for a moment. How he felt? How  _ did  _ he feel about Bill? He liked him, for sure, but so did Eddie, Richie, Mike, and Ben. He didn’t want to violate the bounds of their friendship, or make Bill uncomfortable.

 “Maybe,” He whispered, and then ended the call. His heart turned over in his chest when his parents called him down for dinner.

 It was finally time for the holidays again, and their group decided to do a secret Santa sort of thing, though they didn’t call it that because even though Stan said it was okay, they didn’t want to offend him.

 He got Bill, and realized with panic that he had no idea what to get him. Bill was the most thoughtful, the most caring, the most composed guy Stan knew. Where Stan would be freaking out, mulling over a test or event, Bill was the “cross-that-bridge-when-we-come-to-it,” type of person.

 He noticed that Bill really liked flannel shirts, hoped he didn't seem too lazy with his gift, and bought him a blue, red, and purple flannel. He thought it looked nice and really hoped Bill would like it. It was the next part of his plan that he wasn’t really sure about.

 He attached a white card that said, “From: Stan,” and drew a picture of a robin.

 In the corner, he wrote a few tiny words.

_ I think I love you :) _

__ The text was so small he wasn’t even sure if Bill would be able to read it. He picked up the gift box and started on his way to Ben’s house, where the exchange would take place. 

 Mike greeted him at the door, wearing a red nose and Santa hat, and took his gift to place in a pile with the rest of them.

 After possibly the world’s worst rendition of “Frosty the Snowman” on Richie’s part, Ben brought the pile of gifts to the middle of the circle they’d created by sitting down.

 Stan fiddled with his necklace, like he always did when he was nervous. He had a habit of pushing his pinky finger through one of the glasses lenses and tracing the rough edge of the key with his thumb.

They all went around in a circle and opened their gifts. Ben got a New Kids on the Block vinyl from Eddie, Eddie got a pastel red fanny pack (and set of gigantic lingerie “for his mom”) from Richie, Richie got a VHS copy of  _ Star Wars: A New Hope _ from Mike, Mike got a new set of watercolor paint palettes from Bill, and Stan got an updated bird book from Ben.

 It was finally time for Bill to open up the gift Stan had gotten him. He felt anxiety pool in his stomach like honey, sticking his insides together tightly.

 He read the card first and didn’t seem to notice Stan’s note. If he did, he didn’t show it.

 He smiled and happily unveiled his shirt, and as much as he said he loved it, Stan still held a seed of doubt in his stomach.

\--

 The moment Bill received his present from Stan and Mike went up to do a karaoke duet with Richie, Bill pulled Eddie from the room and into the kitchen.

 “What the hell, Bill?” Eddie pushed Bill’s hand off his shoulder. Bill scoffed a bit and sighed internally.

 “I know you were trying to pine after Richie but we have  _ b- bigger problems. _ ” Bill rolled his eyes, though they held mostly happiness and anxiety in them.

 “Wh- I would  _ literally  _ never-- R- Richie? How dare you imply tha- and for Trashmouth?” Eddie stammered, making offended noises in between words.

 “Yeah okay, b- but again, we’ve got a problem and that problem is  _ S- Stanley Uris.”  _ Bill unfolded the card as gently as possible, showing the small scripted writing to Eddie.

_ “I think I love you?” _ Eddie read aloud, surprise coating his tone before he broke out into a smile and pat Bill on the back.

 “That’s great! You love him too, don’t you?” Eddie asked at the sight of Bill’s pale face.

 “Yeah but… what about his parents? What about  _ muh- my parents?  _ What would everyone say if they knew we were dating?” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 “Then keep it a secret! I won’t tell. You won’t tell. I doubt Stan’ll tell--”

 “Doubt I’ll tell what?” Stan asked, walking into the kitchen. Both Eddie and Bill jumped, and Bill struggled to get out a word.

 “Th- that you-- I m- mean I-- wuh- wuh- well-”

 “Bill loves you too!” Eddie blurted out quickly, almost immediately running back to the living room while Bill’s face flushed redder than a tomato. Stan turned to look at him, hesitating and moving carefully.

 “So you got my note,” Stan observed, embarrassed. He clearly hadn’t thought his plan through very well. Bill shrugged.

 “I’m a little i- impressed that you didn’t find mine yet.” Stan raised a quizzical eyebrow, frowning.

 “Find yours?” Bill motioned to the necklace he’d given him almost a full year ago, which Stan looked down on carefully. Bill walked towards him and tentatively took the necklace in his hand, pointing to extremely small script writing on the back of each charm.

_ L  _ on Mike’s polaroid.

_  O  _ on Eddie’s inhaler.

_ V  _ on Bev’s key.

_ E  _ on Richie’s glasses.

_ Y  _ on Ben’s book.

_ O  _ on Bill’s paper boat.

_ U  _ on Stan’s bird.

 In truth, he had noticed the writing before. But he always thought it was simply from the Loser’s Club as a whole. There was something special on Bill’s charm, though, because it had something, some kind of mark that Stan couldn’t really decipher. And then it hit him like a truck.

 An  _ I _ . It was a goddamned letter I placed on the left corner of Bill’s charm and it made the necklace read, ‘I LOVE YOU.’

 Stan dropped the necklace back against his chest, staring back up at Bill tentatively. He had no idea what to do. Panicked, he reached out and grabbed Bill’s hand in his, smiling good-heartedly.

 Bill then lead him back into the family room, and none of the others said anything about them being hand-in-hand. Okay, so maybe Christmas wasn’t as bad as Stan thought.


End file.
